


To Fall in Love

by Faster_Than_the_Speed_of_Sound



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Arranged Marriage, Ballroom Dancing, Dancing, Enemies to Lovers, Evil Michael (Supernatural), Grumpy Castiel (Supernatural), Human Dean Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, PBExchangeReunion, Pining, Pining Castiel (Supernatural), Prince Castiel (Supernatural), Prince Dean Winchester, Sharing a Bed, Sweet Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sweet Dean Winchester, profoundnet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29439051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faster_Than_the_Speed_of_Sound/pseuds/Faster_Than_the_Speed_of_Sound
Summary: In a bid to make Eden more powerful, King Michael creates a competition to see who the strongest prince of the valley is. The prize? His younger brother's hand in marriage. He's confident in Hell's champion's ability to win.Except he doesn't. A scrappy human from a nobody-kingdom wins, and now Castiel, Michael's younger brother, has to figure out how to keep Dean Winchester alive so he isn't married off to some awful demon. That's easier said than done, though, especially since Michael has every intention of getting rid of the human.In all this mess, Castiel never expected to actually fall in love.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 22
Kudos: 105
Collections: Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Reunion





	To Fall in Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sxlcouthgeek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxlcouthgeek/gifts).



> Okay, so I have NEVER done this before. This is a gift exchange fic, and it totally pushed my limits in the best of ways. I seriously don't think I've ever struggled so hard to keep my word count BELOW a certain number. It was insane.
> 
> I really hope you like this, sxlcouthgeek! I tried to incorporate the tropes you enjoy and cram them in under 8k. Thank you for the awesome outline, it was fun. ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

They had to share a room. 

Castiel could have killed Michael in that moment. He probably would have, had Gabriel not laid a hand on his shoulder. A singular glance told Castiel that the third-eldest Novak was not happy either. A look at Michael revealed he was displeased as well, though his gaze was resting on the green-eyed barbarian that had somehow beaten Crowley’s most prized fighter in a swordfight. The green-eyed prince looked half-dead, the bandages that had been hastily wrapped around his wounds already beginning to bleed through. He definitely should be in the infirmary, not here, but Castiel had the feeling Michael was hoping he’d keel over and die so he could declare Crowley’s champion the winner. 

All four men stood in Castiel’s bedroom. Castiel was glaring at Michael, Gabriel was staring blankly at the bedspread, obviously deep in thought, Michael was glaring angrily at nothing, and Dean Winchester was swaying where he stood. 

“Well, we’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” Michael said, after a good moment of awkward silence. “Gabe, come on.” 

“Get a healer,” Castiel muttered to Gabriel as the golden-eyed prince passed. Gabe nodded, eyeing the injured prince off to the right. Castiel was grateful for his older brother and the understanding between them. Gabriel seemed to be the only sane one in this castle these days. 

Not for the first time, Castiel wished their father hadn’t died. Chuck had been fighting an illness for the better part of a decade, but he’d only just started to get weak in the past years. When Lucifer murdered him and attempted to murder Michael in a bid for the throne, it was really to no one’s surprise. Unfortunately, though Lucifer was murderous and insane, Michael was almost worse. He was scheming and power-hungry, and he didn’t care about anyone else who got stomped on in his quest for dominion over the valley. Chuck had ruled Eden with a fair, benevolent hand for many years. Michael was tired of being ‘stepped on’ by other kingdoms, or so he said. 

That prompted a competition to see whom the strongest of the princes was. Castiel knew that Michael had fully been expecting Crowley’s champion, Asmodeus, to win. Unfortunately for Michael, the surprisingly skilled human from a kingdom no one knew had won instead. 

Dean Winchester had been unbelievable in the arena, that was for sure. Castiel still wasn’t sure how he’d beaten Asmodeus, a powerful demon, but he’d managed it. That meant that Dean Winchester, the human prince of Lawrence, was now lined up to be married to Castiel. 

There were pros and cons to Dean’s victory. Castiel wasn’t thrilled to be betrothed to a human, but it was definitely better than the brute of a champion that King Crowley had sent. On the downside, Dean came from a small kingdom that wouldn’t benefit Eden in any way. Castiel could tell that Michael was really upset about that. He was still waiting to see what his brother did to fix that problem. 

For Dean, everything must be going pretty well. He’d secured an alliance with one of the most powerful kingdoms in the valley at the expense of his own flesh and blood. His father, John Winchester, would likely be pleased. 

Currently, Dean looked like he was going to pass out. The three-day competition for Castiel’s hand in marriage had been a grueling one. The last fight, between the two surviving champions, had been especially brutal. Castiel was honestly surprised Dean was still standing. 

Thankfully, the healers arrived soon. They sat Dean down on the bed. His green eyes were glazed over with pain. Castiel watched him with slight disdain, wondering what would happen if he died. Humans were pathetically fragile. Maybe Castiel would be pawned off to the next prince in line for Hell’s throne. He shuddered to think of it. Perhaps he should be more invested in Dean Winchester’s survival. 

Wings lifting slightly, he walked over to where two healers were lifting Dean’s arms and checking the slashes across his ribs. Asmodeus had really done a number on him. “How is he?” Castiel asked, voice flat and neutral. 

“He’ll live, Prince Castiel,” one of the healers replied. Her soft gray wings were relaxed and loose. She wasn’t worried. “We’re just making sure no infection settles in. With the tonics we’ve given him and some rest, he should be fine in a few weeks.” 

Dean said nothing, though his green eyes were on Castiel now. For a moment, they held each other’s gazes, weighing and assessing. Castiel was pleased to find some fire in the depths of those green eyes. At least Dean wouldn’t be dull. 

The healers finished what they were doing, muttering about Dean needing to rest. They left with respectful bows to both princes. When the door shut, Castiel turned to Dean. 

“My brother isn’t pleased that you won,” he remarked. 

Dean snorted. “I wouldn’t think he was. He was holding out for that fucker from Hell to win. Why hasn’t he just offered an alliance with Crowley yet?” His voice was surprisingly deep and smooth. Castiel tilted his head to the side, debating on whether or not he should tell Dean about Michael’s motives. 

In the end, he decided to just tell him. The human would be married to Castiel in a few short weeks anyway. “He intends to make Eden as strong as he can. If that means an alliance with Hell, he’ll gladly do everything he can to secure it. I have no doubt he’s already speaking with King Crowley.” Castiel’s eyes narrowed as Dean shoved himself up, making his way to a standing position with difficulty. “You should be resting. You heard the healers.” 

Dean snorted. “We’re not married yet. You can’t tell me what to do.” 

Castiel clenched his jaw. “My intention is not to tell you what you can or cannot do,” he gritted out. “In fact, if I could, I would call this whole thing off. Unfortunately, it pleases my brother, and I have no intentions of angering him. I also have no intentions of letting you die and getting myself married to a demon, so that means I’m stuck with you.” 

“Well, Mr. Dictionary, I guess that makes two of us that ain’t happy,” Dean said, giving Castiel an infuriating grin. “Trust me, angel, if I could get out of this, I would. The last place I want to be is here.” 

Castiel’s wings stiffened. “Good. We understand each other, then.” 

“I guess we do,” Dean replied. Though he had no wings that Castiel could read for emotions, his thoughts were evident on his face. This marriage was solely for convenience. There was nothing else. 

There never would be. 

~>>>~ 

Dinner was interesting. Every angel in Eden’s court wanted to see Dean. To the human’s credit, he handled the curious angels with grace and poise. Castiel could at least appreciate his charm. 

After dinner was when the first problem was presented to them. Dean followed Castiel through the castle from the dining hall, having not memorized the winding passages yet. As Castiel shut the door of his rooms behind himself, he looked at the prince and realized exactly what ‘sharing a room’ meant. 

“We are not sharing a bed,” he gritted out. “If you get near me, I’ll send your soul to the bowels of the underworld before you can blink.” 

Dean snorted. “Trust me, hot wings, I wasn’t gonna. Where do I sleep?” 

Castiel headed for the bathroom, wings shaking themselves out. “I don’t care. Just stay out of my way.” 

He went through his nightly routine, brushing his teeth and washing his face. When he returned to his bedroom, he found Dean Winchester curled up on the floor in the corner of the room. He’d stolen a pillow and a blanket from Castiel’s bed, and he was resolutely ignoring the angel as he made his little nest. It was strangely pathetic. Castiel resisted the urge to snort, instead ignoring the prince as well. He climbed into bed and arranged his wings in a comfortable position behind himself. 

Tomorrow, he’d ask for Dean to be given separate rooms. Until then, he’d just have to deal with a second person in his bedroom. 

Eyes slipping closed, Castiel settled in. He was asleep before Dean even finished brushing his teeth. 

~>>>~ 

Apparently, Dean was required to stay with Castiel. Also, according to Michael, it was _Castiel’s_ job to show the human prince around the castle. Castiel did so begrudgingly, often with an annoyed tilt to his wings and a stormy expression on his face. 

Dean, to his credit, was fairly cooperative when on tours of the castle. He took everything in with wide eyes and respectful silence. He was surprisingly charming with the female angels and patient with the fledglings, a thing Castiel found to be both annoying and endearing. It was hard to hate Dean when he was laughing and making funny faces with an excited group of young angels. 

The new problem that started popping up was Dean’s nightmares. Castiel could count several times in the past week that he’d been woken in the middle of the night by Dean shouting himself awake. The angel never let the human know he was also awake, just listened silently as Dean’s frantic, panicked breathing slowly drifted back into the deep rhythm of sleep. It wasn’t Castiel’s job to coddle the human. He was just supposed to marry him. 

Despite his best efforts, though, he still watched Dean. He found he couldn’t pull himself away. He learned that Dean had little speckles on his face and the tops of his shoulders, the one time Dean took his shirt off in front of him. He saw the scars on Dean’s torso, marks of a seasoned warrior. He saw the sparkle in the human’s eyes when he ate the pie that was sometimes served in the great hall. Castiel witnessed the way Dean would look at the young angels with a kind of longing, as if they reminded him of someone. 

Two weeks after the competition, Castiel watched Dean get ready for bed, frowning at the way he was wincing with every movement. Humans really did heal slowly. “I saw you with the fledglings earlier.” 

Dean blinked over at him, looking surprised to hear Castiel talking to him. “Yeah. They’re adorable. Their little wings are so fluffy.” 

Castiel smiled a little despite himself. “They are. They really like you.” 

Dean shrugged. “I’ve always been good with kids. Sometimes you just gotta listen to ‘em talk. Sammy was like that.” 

Castiel frowned, thinking. He’d done research on Lawrence, having not known much about them. ‘Sammy’ must be Sam Winchester, Dean’s younger brother. Castiel wondered if Sam was the one that Dean was thinking about when he looked out the window with a faraway look in his eyes. 

“Do you miss your brother?” Castiel asked, purely curious. 

Dean, to his surprise, chuckled. “Yeah. I miss him more every day. I know he’s gonna do good back in Lawrence, though. Dad’ll take care of him, I think.” 

Castiel contemplated the relationship between Dean and his brother. “My brothers and I are not like you. We don’t like each other, for the most part. The only siblings I have that I trust are Gabriel and Anna. Anna’s married to a king in a different kingdom, and Gabriel is the golden-winged angel you see at dinner sometimes.” 

Dean looked at him out of the corner of his eyes, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That sucks, man. I couldn’t imagine. How many siblings do you have?” 

“Five. Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, Anna, and Uriel. Uriel is Michael’s general, Anna is queen of another kingdom, and you know about the other three,” Castiel said. He carefully avoided mentioning Lucifer. Having only been two years ago, the topic was still a little fresh. 

“I’ve only got one,” Dean said. “He’s like, the best kid ever. He’s studying at Stanford, actually. I’m really proud of him.” 

Castiel raised his eyebrows. “That’s impressive, Dean. The scholars of Stanford are the best in the world.” 

Dean smiled. It was a nice smile, Castiel realized. Dean looked soft and happy when he spoke about his brother. “Hell yeah, they are. Sammy’s gonna be the best, too. That’s why I’m here. I needed to secure our kingdom’s safety, and I didn’t want him to have to be pulled out of school for it. I figured offering myself was the second-best option.” 

Castiel blinked. “That’s... very honorable of you, Dean.” It was. To see how devoted Dean was to Sam cast the human prince in a whole new light. 

“I guess.” Dean turned away from Castiel, throwing on a shirt. His movements were stiff and painful. Castiel frowned. 

“Haven’t your injuries healed yet?” he asked. “I realize humans heal slower, but I didn’t think you’d still be in that much pain.” 

Dean blinked over at him, green eyes wide with surprise. “You noticed? Oh, uh, yeah. I’m healing, just slower than you angels do. It doesn’t help that I’m on the floor,” he said, glancing over at his corner. Castiel winced. 

“I tried to get you a different set of rooms. They wouldn’t allow it,” he said. He sighed, glancing at the corner. “We could, perhaps... switch? I could sleep on the floor?” 

Dean snorted. “There’s no way I’m making you sleep on the floor of your own bedroom. I’m the imposter here.” 

“You’re my future husband,” Castiel pointed out. He was slightly taken aback by Dean’s consideration of his comfort. Perhaps the human really wasn’t as much of a heathen as he’d originally thought. Surprise and tentative empathy made the angel honest. “I can’t sleep knowing that you’re in pain. What if we compromised?” 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Compromised? How?” 

“Well, this bed is far too big for one person anyway, angel or not,” Castiel said slowly. “Perhaps we could... What if we put pillows between us? And we could stay on opposite sides.” 

Dean squinted at the bed, still holding the soft shirt he’d been wearing earlier. Castiel looked back at the bed too. It suddenly seemed a lot smaller than he remembered. 

It was too late to take back his offer, though, because Dean was already shrugging. “Sure. Thanks, Cas.” 

It wasn’t until later that night, listening to the soft breaths of the sleeping human only a few feet away, that Castiel realized that Dean had given him a nickname. 

~>>>~ 

Eden was way nicer than Lawrence. While Dean’s kingdom wasn’t impoverished by any means, it certainly looked like it when paired up against the opulent beauty of the angel kingdom. Dean had been here for three weeks, and he was still being blown away by the power and grace infused in every stone that made up the city. 

Now that they’d begun sleeping in the same bed, Castiel was warmer toward Dean. It was a nice change. Dean hated being at odds with someone, and when that someone was his angelic future husband who also kind of hated him, it made life a lot harder. 

Sleeping in a real bed was nice, too. Dean’s body ached less and his injuries healed better. By the time a month had gone by since he’d won the competition, he was pretty much fully healed. 

He still had nightmares, and Castiel still didn’t know. Either the guy was a really deep sleeper, or he just had a way of blocking Dean out. Either way, Dean had a nightmare almost every night, and the angel never seemed to wake. It was nice, since Dean hated knowing that he’d inconvenienced people. 

At least, Dean _thought_ Castiel didn’t know about his nightmares. 

Dean was shaken awake one night a couple weeks after Castiel first invited him onto the bed. He’d been having a particularly bad dream in which Alastair had kidnapped Sam and was hurting him instead of Dean. Dean must have been thrashing, because when Castiel flicked on the bedside lamp, he had a red mark on his jaw. 

Dean threw himself out of bed, needing space to breathe. Castiel’s ridiculously blue eyes were surprisingly gentle as he watched Dean calm down from his place on the bed. His tousled dark hair was a mess, his wings ruffled with sleep. “Dean, are you alright?” 

Dean swallowed rapidly. “Y-Yeah, I’m-shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-fuck, I really... Shit, God, I-” 

“Dean, it’s alright,” Castiel soothed. “You didn’t know. You can’t control what you’re doing. Come back to bed, you’re shaking.” Dean blinked, realizing that the angel was right. Fuck, his whole body was trembling. It wasn’t just from cold, though that was a factor. Eden was high in the mountains, and it was colder regularly than Lawrence was. 

Dean trembled as he walked back to the bed. The sheets were still warm where he’d been, though they felt somehow wrong on his skin. God, he felt like puking. All he could see was Sam’s angelic face twisted in agony, Alastair’s knife- 

“Shit,” Dean whispered, putting his head in his hands. He breathed there for a moment, shoulders shaking. He was surprised to find that his face was wet when he put his palms there. “I’m s-sorry, Cas. I didn’t mean to w-wake you.” 

“Dean, I am aware of the reaction to trauma that the human brain has,” Castiel said, not unkindly. “What was it about? Your nightmare, I mean.” 

Dean choked, drawing his legs up near his body. He felt more than saw Castiel lean over the pillows they’d stuffed under the sheets to create a barrier between them. The angel drew up the blanket over Dean’s knees. While it wasn’t exactly solving all Dean’s problems, he was still grateful to Castiel for even tolerating him right now. 

“Uh, m-my brother. It was about my brother and... and Alastair,” Dean admitted. “I-I... When I was... I-” He trailed off, throat tightening as a sob tried to force its way out of his throat. 

“You don’t have to tell me, Dean. I was just suggesting,” Castiel said gently. He paused. “I didn’t know you knew Alastair.” 

Dean gave a dry, choked laugh. “Oh, I know him. H-He... He and... Lawrence and Hell have been at war for centuries. We’ve just... never been friends. In exchange for my brother’s freedom after a failed battle, I... I offered myself up. It t-took four months for my dad to orchestrate a rescue strategy. While I was imprisoned, Alastair, he-he... He- _fuck_ _._ ” 

“Knowing Alastair, I can guess, Dean,” Castiel said. He was letting Dean off the hook, which the human was profoundly grateful for. He knew he should really talk about what had happened, but he still couldn’t quite bring himself to do so. “Is that where your scars are from?” 

“Some of ‘em, yeah.” Dean finally peeled his face from the dark safety of his hands. He wiped fiercely at his eyes, blinking in the soft light of the lamp on the bedside table. It backlit Castiel’s hair, making it look like he was wearing a halo. The angel really was pretty, Dean realized. When he wasn’t being angry or disgusted with Dean, he had a pleasant face. “I guess I’m not the only one who got fucked over by this competition, huh?” Dean asked suddenly. “You probably aren’t happy about it either.” 

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “How did you guess?” he asked, dry sarcasm dripping from his tone. 

Dean shrugged. “I just... I guess I thought you’d have agreed to this in some way. But after being here a few weeks and seeing how Michael runs things, no offense, I guess I just... I realized you probably weren’t too thrilled about this.” 

Castiel sighed, looking at the wall opposite the bed with a frown. “In many ways, this competition was a violation of many things I thought of my brother, the main one being that he wouldn’t cross ‘that line’. Well, he did, and now you’re here. I was angry with _you_ for a long time, simply because you were easier to be angry at. Really, though, I think was angry at Michael, and at myself.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s not fair to be angry with you. You gave up your future just as much as I did.” 

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Guess we’re in this together, then.” He stared at the bedspread for as long as the silence was comfortable. Once it passed that point, he looked up to find the angel staring at him with intensely blue eyes. 

“I suppose we are, Dean,” Castiel said after a moment. “I suppose we are.” 

~>>>~ 

“I can’t dance.” 

It was a whispered, near-silent sentence in Castiel’s ear, wrought with panic and understandable anxiety. With the way Michael was glaring at Dean, it was obvious that he’d not only heard the human, but was also displeased by what he’d said. Castiel swallowed and shifted his wings slightly, the edge of one brushing up against Dean’s shoulder comfortingly. “I’ll teach you.” 

Dean nodded, though he still looked pale and nervous. It made sense. Michael had announced the Grand Winter’s Ball at breakfast a few minutes ago, and it had taken the human about three seconds to realize what _that_ meant. Castiel had grown up with the Grand Winter’s Ball happening annually. He knew what was expected. He realized he’d have to make sure Dean didn’t make a fool of them both. 

After breakfast, instead of going to tour a part of the castle or read in the library, Castiel led Dean back to their shared bedroom. Once the door was closed, he turned to the human. 

Dean was wringing his hands, looking nervous. Castiel sighed, raising his wings to steady himself. 

“How bad is it?” 

“Bad,” Dean replied. He was running his hands through his hair, making it stick up wildly. “I literally have no idea how to dance. Worse, I’m bad at it. Sammy always excelled in those kinds of classes when we were little, but I might as well have two wooden legs. _Fuck_. Your brother already hates me. This isn’t gonna end well.” 

“Yes, it will,” Castiel said firmly. “I would have had to teach you how to dance anyway. Angels have different traditions and rituals than humans. I won’t allow you to make a fool of yourself. Michael is waiting for you to slip up anyway.” It was true. The King of Eden had made his displeasure toward Dean clear in the past two months. 

“You’re... You’re going to teach me to dance?” Dean asked, cheeks pinking. 

For some reason, Castiel started blushing too. He cleared his throat, wings ruffling in an attempt to regain his composure. “Yes. We’ll have to do it somewhere no one else will see. We can’t let Michael get wind of this.” He frowned. 

“That’ll be pretty much impossible,” Dean said, shaking his head. He was frowning as well, likely thinking the same as Castiel. “This castle is highly populated. There won’t be anywhere we can go where someone won’t see.” He ran his fingers through his hair again, thinking. After a moment, his face brightened. “What if we didn’t have to go some _where_? What if it was some _t_ _ime_ that no one was around? If there’s one thing about you guys I’ve noticed, it’s that angels sleep deeply.” 

Castiel frowned. “You’re right. Perhaps after everyone is asleep, we could go to the gardens and practice.” 

Dean smiled. “Bingo. There won’t be anyone there?” 

Castiel shook his head. “No one but the night guard, and they’ll be easy to avoid. The grounds are large, and there aren’t many of them.” He smiled at the human in front of him. “This might work, Dean.” 

“Hell yeah, it will,” Dean replied, grinning back. “I’ll be dancing in no time.” 

~>>>~ 

As it turned out, Dean was a good dancer when properly directed. Once they got past the first few nights of stepped-on toes and stumbling feet, Dean’s natural grace allowed him to dance beautifully. With the Grand Winter’s Ball three weeks away, Dean would be just fine. 

Castiel had to admit, there was something intimate about dancing by the light of the moon. Dean’s body was warm and firm against his, his hands strong and steady in Castiel’s. The angel found his wings often rising to inappropriate positions, typically displaying his possessiveness over a prince he didn’t own, to a non-existent crowd. 

The guards sometimes came by, prompting the dancing pair to scramble for a hiding spot. One time, Castiel had to crush Dean against a hedge and flare his black wings, blending them into the shadows as an angel guard passed. Once he’d gone out of hearing range, Dean and Castiel had shared their first real laugh. Castiel was still in awe of the human’s face when he really, truly laughed. His whole body communicated his mirth and happiness. It was as endearing as it was inexplicably magnetic. The angel got to see it a few more times over the weeks he taught the human to dance. 

One night, a few weeks before the ball, Castiel looked into Dean’s moonlit green eyes and realized something. It was something he’d been feeling for a few weeks, a nagging thought at the back of his mind. Now, looking at the play of silver light on Dean’s tan, freckled face, Castiel understood. 

He was falling in love with Dean. 

It was evident in the shape of his wings whenever the human entered the room, the warm feelings he only seemed to feel around Dean. Castiel often found himself wishing he could get rid of the pillows between them on the bed at night, that he could close the distance between them whenever they were dancing. He swore he saw the same in Dean’s eyes, the extra sparkle, the pink that highlighted his cheeks whenever Castiel praised his progression in dancing. Castiel thought, sometimes, that Dean might love him back. That maybe he should say something, broach the subject that they were both so masterfully avoiding. 

He didn’t. 

Two weeks before the Grand Winter’s Ball, something happened that made him wish he had. 

~>>>~ 

Castiel woke up to an empty bed. Frowning, he got dressed and headed down to breakfast, figuring Dean’s bottomless-pit stomach had dragged him out of bed before the angel. At the dining table, though, there was no sign of the human. When Castiel asked Ellen, the cook, she said that he hadn’t been there all morning. 

Dean _never_ missed a meal. 

Disturbed, Castiel went looking for the prince in all his favorite places around the castle. Dean wasn’t in the library, the gardens, the high tower. He wasn’t in the kitchens, charming the cooks into giving him an extra slice of pie. He wasn’t in the stables, visiting his horse, Baby. In fact, Baby wasn’t there at all. It was that last fact that had Castiel turning to go see Michael. He’d been reluctant to ask his brother when he’d first noticed Dean was missing. Castiel had a horrible feeling that Michael knew exactly what was going on. 

His fears were confirmed when Castiel entered the throne room and saw the smug smile on Michael’s face. Castiel marched up to the throne, wings flared in a don’t-fuck-with-me gesture that wasn’t _strictly_ polite in the presence of the court, but he didn’t care about anything in that moment other than Dean. 

“Where is he?” Castiel demanded. 

“Not going to bow?” Michael asked, eyebrows rising. “Too good for that now?” 

Castiel gritted his teeth. “Stop playing games, Michael. Where’s Dean?” 

Michael’s eyes widened in mock-surprise. “You didn’t know? He left this morning. Packed his bags and rode off on his horse. I would have thought he’d tell you. I thought you two were _close_.” He gave Castiel an awful smile. 

“There’s no way Dean would just _leave_ ,” Castiel said. There _couldn’t_ be. Dean... Dean wouldn’t leave him, would he? 

Michael, as if sniffing out Castiel’s insecurity, grinned like a shark. “He said he had things in his kingdom to attend to. He mentioned a little brother, I believe. Dean was adamant that he get back to the things that matter.” 

The words hit like a blow to Castiel’s chest. He gritted his teeth against the urge to lower his wings in defeat, instead raising them higher. He flashed a little more primary than socially acceptable and reveled in the scandalized gasps from the court-goers behind him. “You’re lying.” 

Michael’s face turned from darkly amused to stormy. “Do not insult me, Castiel. Brother or not, I am your king. I have already allowed you far too much freedom to do as you please. Dean Winchester left this morning to go back to his kingdom, and he will not be returning. I believe that’s all I have for you.” 

“You can’t _dismiss me_ , Michael, I’m your _brother_ ,” Castiel hissed. 

“Leave,” Michael growled, standing. His six wings had flared slightly, matching Castiel’s in dominance and aggression. “That’s an order from your king.” Much as Castiel wanted to argue that, Michael was right. To continue to defy him in front of his court would only lead to bad things. He needed to think this through. 

“Lucifer was right,” Castiel spat, wings lowering as he backed down. “You are a tyrannical bastard.” 

He turned and stormed out of the throne room, leaving a fuming Michael and a shocked court behind. 

~>>>~ 

Whether or not Dean had left of his own volition, he was still gone. And it seemed he had taken all the color and life out of the world with him. 

Castiel woke in a cold, empty bed. He got dressed in still silence, no one to try to snatch the bathroom from, no Dean to secretly admire as he pulled off his sleep shirt to change. Castiel moved listlessly around the castle most days, unable to figure out _why_ he didn’t want to do anything. The library wasn’t as fun without Dean to read quietly beside him, the stables dull without the prince to gush over his beloved horse. Mealtimes were subdued and quiet now that Dean wasn’t there to spur the conversation on with his charming, beautiful smile and smile-inducing laugh. The very sky seemed to gray in the absence of the human. Castiel stared up at it most days with abject apathy. 

It was worse at night. Castiel no longer sat around in his room, waiting for the castle to go silent so he could sneak out to the garden with Dean. He no longer crept through silent halls with a wildly beating heart, Dean moving silently behind him. He no longer danced with the human by moonlight, no longer got to witness the light of the heavens dancing across Dean’s beautiful face. Castiel didn’t wake in the middle of the night to comfort Dean after he woke them both with an awful nightmare. Instead, he laid awake and stared at the ceiling, wondering what the hell he’d done to make Dean run away. 

Because that was surely what had happened. Castiel had checked with the guards. Dean had taken his horse and rode away in the morning, along with most of his belongings. 

It wasn’t just Castiel that was noticing. He realized it as he moved through the castle. The fledglings regularly ran up and tugged on his hand, asking in small, sad voices where Dean was. Ellen seemed to forget Dean wasn’t there some nights, which meant that there were several slices of pie left out, uneaten by the rest of the angels. The stableboy, Alfie, still rotated the hay in Baby’s stall even though there was no horse. It seemed the castle of Eden was mourning the loss of the human prince as much as Castiel was. 

Castiel found himself going to all of Dean’s favorite places, sitting there and watching the echoes of memories play before his eyes. He never really did anything, just sat there and thought. Remembered. 

He went to the high tower and remembered Dean sitting there for hours, sunning himself. He remembered telling Dean stories of his people, of the kingdom of Eden and how it was founded. In return, Dean would tell him stories about Lawrence, about their long-standing duty to hunt the demons of Hell. It made sense that Hell and Lawrence had never gotten along, once Castiel learned more about the two kingdoms. On the high tower, Dean told stories of the festivals of the humans. Castiel particularly loved hearing about the one held every winter, when humans cut down evergreen trees and decorated them. Dean had smiled as he told Castiel that sometimes, the humans put figurine angels on top of their trees. 

In the library, Castiel remembered the long hours sitting in comfortable silence, reading until his eyes crossed. He remembered Dean reading weird facts out of books that were written in different languages Castiel couldn’t read. Castiel opened the Enochian books for fledglings that he’d given Dean, smiled a little as he thought of Dean’s clumsy pronunciations and his bright, happy smile when he got it right and Castiel praised him for it. 

Castiel ate silently at dinner, uninterested in joining the dull talk. It was boring without Dean to spice up the conversation, to make the ladies gasp with his language, then soothe them with a charming smile and a wink. No one had cherished Ellen’s cooking more than Dean. No one marveled at the beauty of the great hall and the size of the court more than Dean. Everyone missed him. 

It seemed that Castiel wasn’t the only one who’d fallen in love. 

The last place Castiel really went was the gardens. It hurt most of the time, to stand in the little courtyard where he and Dean had danced many nights by the light of the moon, enclosed by the towering hedges on all sides. If Castiel closed his eyes, he could imagine dancing with Dean, showing him the steps and laughing when he got them wrong, even if it meant his foot getting crushed. If Castiel closed his eyes, he could imagine the bright sparkle in Dean’s eyes, the love that Castiel had thought was there. 

If the angel closed his eyes, he could imagine he was holding his human in his arms again. 

~>>>~ 

The week before the Grand Winter’s Ball, Castiel felt even worse. He moped in his room for most of the time, unable to bear going out into the castle for fear of encountering more echoes of Dean’s laugh, of his smile. It was because he was in his room so often that he found the letter. 

Castiel was cleaning out old documents in his drawers when he came across the ones on Dean’s side of the bed. He found a few old letters from Sam, his brother, and a couple of drafts that Dean had messed up on. On top was a letter dated the night before Dean left. 

Castiel frowned, lifting it so he could read it. 

_Sammy,_

_You wouldn’t believe what Cas and I have been doing! I get to participate in the Grand Winter’s Ball this year, just like Mom used to talk about. It’s amazing. Cas has been showing me how angels dance. They’re so graceful and light, you would love it. I wish you were here, man. You would love Eden._

_Don’t let Dad get to you. Maybe if I can get into Michael’s good graces with a good performance at the Ball, I can convince him to let you come up and visit or something. You would love it here, like I’ve said before. Yesterday, I found a whole SECTION of the library written in Latin. I could only understand half of it, it was really advanced. You’d enjoy it. You’d enjoy a lot of things here. I want to hear more about Jess! She sounds a lot like Cas. Sweet and kind, but really smart and sarcastic too. I can see why you like her._

_I love him, Sammy. I know I told you before, but I really do. He’s amazing. I don’t know if he loves me back, but sometimes I wonder. Anyway, I’m excited for the Ball. I’ll tell you more about it in my next letter. Tell me if Dad gets too intolerable, alright? We’ll figure something out._

_Love you and miss you, kiddo,_

_Dean_

Castiel stared at the letter, blinking the tears out of his eyes. Dean... loved him. Dean loved him. He’d said it. He’d told his little brother about it. 

If he loved Castiel, why had he left? 

Castiel forced himself to focus, to read through the letter again. It sounded as if Dean was excited for the Grand Winter’s Ball. Why would he leave before it? There was no record of Sam ever responding. Besides, it looked as if Dean hadn’t even sent this letter. 

Chills arced up Castiel’s spine. He threw the letter aside and rummaged in the drawer, searching for something from Sam that would indicate a reason for Dean’s abrupt departure. There was nothing. The last letter Sam had sent mainly revolved around him gushing about Jess, what Eden must be like, and complaining about their father getting drunk again. Castiel stared blankly at the letter, contemplating Dean’s abrupt, strange departure. 

What if... What if Dean _hadn’t_ left Eden? 

Castiel threw the letter onto the desk and sprinted out of his room. 

~>>>~ 

The dungeons of Eden’s castle were not nice places to be. Castiel had only been there a few times in his life. He didn’t really like it. Michael and Lucifer had been the only Novak children who had ever liked coming down here. Gabriel had flat-out refused after the first time. 

Castiel descended the damp stairwell, heart in his throat. He could hear torches flickering, but that was about it. His own steps were near-silent on the stone of the spiraling staircase. 

Behind him, Gabriel guarded his back with an angel blade at the ready. 

Castiel had known that something was going on when Alfie had told him that Dean had come to saddle Baby up, accompanied by Michael. Alfie had explained that Dean had seemed really tense, but the stableboy had written it off as concern for his brother. Castiel wasn’t so sure. 

The dark-haired angel gritted his teeth as he came to the bottom of the stairs and found two angel guards waiting for him. As one, they hefted their spears, the points tipped with the material that made up angel blades. 

“Gadreel,” Castiel said calmly, wings rising behind him. “Metatron.” He paused. “There are two ways this can go.” 

“Actually,” Metatron said, “there’s only one, and it includes you walking back up those stairs and never saying a word.” 

Gabriel stepped out from behind Castiel, angel blade gripped tight in his hand. “This is treason. The kidnapping and harm of a peaceful foreign royal goes against all that Eden stands for. Michael is committing treason.” 

Metatron sneered. “Isn’t treason if nobody knows. And you won’t tell a single soul if you want the pretty prince to live.” 

“If you want to keep your wings attached to you, I suggest you step out of the way,” Castiel growled. His wings were high on his back, displaying intense dominance and aggression. He could see Metatron’s tawny ones quailing behind him. “Dean is _mine_. My human. I _will_ kill you to get to him.” 

Metatron paled, despite his initial rally of bravery. The four angels in the stairwell waited for all of a second before Gadreel moved. 

Castiel brandished his sword in defense of an anticipated attack, but it never came. Instead, Gadreel swung his spear at Metatron, cracking the smaller angel on the head and knocking him out cold. “Been wanting to do that for a while,” the stoic angel rumbled. 

“You just...” Gabriel blinked. “Consider my respect for you increased tenfold.” 

Gadreel gave the two princes a grim smile. “I couldn’t let it go on any longer. I wanted to do something sooner, but I had no firepower. You’re exactly that, I think.” He reached down and grabbed the ring of keys from Metatron’s belt, inserting them into the door. “You need to hurry.” 

Castiel didn’t need to be told twice. The second the doors were unlocked, he was shoving his way into the dungeons. Once Castiel got through the door, the sight that greeted him made him want to vomit. 

Dean was kneeling on the ground before Michael, his bruised face twisted into a bloody snarl. Michael’s fist was dripping crimson, raised in the air to strike Dean again. Before he could, Gabriel took a step and hurled his angel blade at their older brother. The blade flipped end-over-end, narrowly missing Michael’s head and clanging instead against the stone wall behind him. 

Michael jerked, turning to stare wide-eyed at Castiel and Gabriel. When he beheld the fury and rage in Castiel’s eyes, his wings lowered in a position of abject terror. 

Castiel stepped forward, swung his sword in an arc, and hacked off Michael’s head in one precise, deadly move. 

Before the decapitated head had even hit the ground, Castiel was flinging his sword to the side and kneeling next to Dean, throwing his arms and wings around him. Dean grunted in pain and surprise as Castiel squeezed tightly, eyes slipping shut. 

He was aware of Gabriel kicking Michael’s body to the side and searching it for keys to the chains that bound Dean’s wrists and ankles. Castiel could feel Dean trembling lightly against him, could feel the prince leaning into him. The angel closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of _Dean_ , of his human. It was hard to find under the scents of fear and blood, but it was there, leather and sunshine and something sweet. 

“God, Dean, I’m so sorry,” Castiel breathed. It sounded like a sob. “You-I... Michael told me you l-left. He told me you went back _home_. But you didn’t, and you were _stuck here_ , and I-I-” 

“It’s okay, angel,” Dean rasped. He moved his arms up to wrap around Castiel. It was a stiff, painful movement, but it made Castiel feel unbelievably better. “I’m okay. You got here just in time.” 

Castiel pulled away enough to see Dean’s swollen, bloody face. “What do you mean? Just in time?” 

Dean gave him a bloody smile. “Michael was gonna off me and lay my body on the side of the road, make it look like bandits or something. He wanted to get some fun in first. You-” He broke off in an awful coughing fit, something that sounded wet and painful. Castiel held him anxiously, wishing for all the world that he could help. “You got here just in time.” 

“Shit, kiddo. I’m glad we did,” Gabriel said. Castiel turned and saw him carefully arranging Michael’s body. “Sorry this happened. I hope you know this isn’t how we usually operate.” Gabriel unlocked Dean’s chains, then went back to arranging Michael’s body. 

Dean gave a wet chuckle. “I know.” 

Castiel eyed the cut on Gabriel’s forearm. It hadn’t been there before. “Are you framing Michael?” 

Gabriel paused, peeking at the angel and human underneath his arm where he was bent over Michael’s body. “Just making a bad thing worse, Cassie. I want to make absolutely sure that we won’t be punished for treason. This was merely an act of self-defense.” Gabriel threw Dean a wink and went back to arranging Michael’s corpse. 

Castiel pressed his face into the side of Dean’s neck, relishing the warm life pulsing underneath his skin. “We need to get you out of here. Can you walk?” 

Dean tightened his hold on Castiel, just a little. “I-uh... I’m not sure I can, no. He didn’t really feed me.” 

“Dean, it’s been two weeks!” Castiel stared at his human in horrified sadness. When he only got a small, sad smile, Castiel lifted his wings behind himself. “Fine. I’ll carry you. There’s only a few stairs anyway.” 

Before Dean could protest, Castiel was slipping his arms underneath the human’s shoulders and knees. Dean gave a little yelp of pain and surprise when Castiel lifted him, but otherwise, he didn’t argue. As Castiel turned to carry him out of the dungeon, a group of angels came flooding into the room. At the head was Uriel, brandishing a sword. 

“Prince Castiel, Prince Gabriel! Good God, it looks like Gadreel was right,” one of the angels cried. 

“Gadreel?” Gabriel asked from behind Castiel. He fake-limped up to Castiel’s side. 

“He told us that King Michael had kidnapped Prince Dean and attacked you two. It seems he was right,” Uriel said. His eyes were wide, settling on Michael’s headless corpse. “Who killed him?” 

“Castiel. He saved my life, and Dean’s,” Gabriel replied. “He’s a hero.” 

“Yes,” Uriel said, giving Castiel a relieved smile. “It looks like he is.” 

~>>>~ 

The Grand Winter’s Ball was surprisingly merry. No one spoke of the vacancy on the throne, nor the band of gold on Gabriel’s head, instead of the silver of a prince. Castiel was happy. He’d rather forget altogether. 

Luckily for him, he had the perfect distraction. 

Dean had made a remarkable recovery in the six days he’d been given. He’d regained his strength and color after a few good meals, and his bruises and cuts were almost healed. His ribs were still bruised, but he could breathe easier than he’d been able to a week ago. 

He looked radiant, dancing with Castiel. His suit, a neat charcoal gray with a blue tie that matched Castiel’s dark blue suit with a charcoal gray tie, fit his body nicely. Castiel had seen more than one angel do a double-take. He was careful to keep his hand on the small of Dean’s back when they weren’t dancing. Right now, the angel simply marveled at Dean’s grace and elegance on the dance floor. 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get Sam up here,” Castiel remarked as they swayed past another dancing couple. Castiel’s wings moved easily through the positions of the dance, an elegant black shape behind him. Every so often, Dean’s sparkling green eyes would shift to them, a flash of awe never failing to cross his face. 

“Me too,” Dean said. “Maybe next year?” He sounded unsure. 

Castiel smiled at him. “Definitely next year. Actually, I’m hoping to convince your father to let Sam stay here permanently.” He’d had trouble keeping that from Dean until tonight, but it was certainly worth it to see the joy and hope flash across Dean’s face underneath the light of the crystal chandeliers. 

“Really? Are you... Are you _serious_ , Cas?” Dean asked. His footsteps stumbled ever-so-slightly in his excitement. Castiel chuckled, gripping Dean’s hand tight to keep him from falling. 

“I’m serious. Would you like that?” he asked, just to see Dean get excited again. 

“Are you kidding? I’d fucking love that,” Dean breathed. “God, I love you.” They both faltered, coming to a stop. Around them, the other couples continued dancing, but Castiel and Dean stayed in one place, staring at each other. Castiel’s eyes were wide with shock. Dean flushed darkly, looking away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have-” 

Castiel kissed him softly on the lips. Dean stopped talking with a startled noise. Castiel pulled away to look at his bright green eyes, a smile splitting his face. “I was surprised,” he murmured. “I thought I’d be the one to say it first.” 

Dean blinked. “Does that mean... You, uh-you... You-” 

“I love you too, Dean,” Castiel murmured, gazing into his human’s eyes reverently. 

Dean said nothing, a slow smile dawning on his face like the sun on shadowed earth. Castiel felt its warmth and welcomed it, taking Dean’s hand gently again. As one, human and angel rejoined the dancers around them, feet light and stepping in time with the soft, synchronized beating of their hearts. Smiling into each other’s eyes, Dean and Castiel danced until the sun brought forth a new dawn. 

**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This was definitely a fun fic, and one that I was pretty nervous and excited about posting. Happy Valentine's Day to those of you who celebrate. I have no valentine today, but I'm definitely going to go buy half-priced chocolate tomorrow. ;)
> 
> Thank you, once again, for reading!
> 
> ~Faster_Than_the_Speed_of_Sound


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